Unbreakable
by Deadi1025
Summary: All he wanted to do was to play his music to those who want to hear it. So why does trouble find him at every corner? Not that it is a big problem or anything. But when he comes toe to toe against a guy in a bartender get up, who knows what will happen.


Taro Tanaka has joined the conversation

Taro Tanaka: Hey Guys

Setton has joined the conversation

Saika has joined the conversation

Setton: Hello

Saika: Hi

Taro Tanaka: Did you guys hear about what the bombing this afternoon?

Setton: What bombing?

Saika: I was at school around that time so I don't know much.

Saika: I do remember seeing smoke from the city however.

Saika: Oh. And I also felt the ground shake a few times.

Taro Tanaka: Yeah. I know.

Taro Tanaka: Scary stuff right?

Setton: Where did this happen?

Taro Tanaka: They said it was in North Ikebukuro Square.

Taro Tanaka: There were pictures and everything in the net. Some said that it might have been terrorists.

Taro Tanaka: Thank God no one was hurt or anything.

Setton: Uh guys…

Setton: I am sure that this was no terrorist attack. Believe me.

Taro Tanaka: Huh? What do you mean?

Saika: Were you there.

Setton: I happened to be there before the 'bombings'.

Setton: All that everyone's been talking about…was actually just a big fight.

Saika: A fight?

Taro Tanaka: Wait. Was Shizuo involved in this?

Setton: Can you imagine anyone else?

Taro Tanaka: Oh.

Kanra has joined the conversation

Kanra: Hello everybody

Taro Tanaka: Wassup?

Setton: Goodevening.

Saika: Welcome.

Kanra: Hey I heard that there was a bombing in Ikebukuro. Is everyone all right?

Setton: Don't worry. We're all okay.

Saika: Setton was actually about to tell us what really happened there.

Taro Tanaka: She said that it was actually a fight that Shizuo had.

Kanra: Wow.

Kanra: That was really unexpected.

Kanra: But I'm not even surprised.

Taro Tanaka: It looks like Ikebukuro takes in a Shizuo Rampage the same way as Japan takes in Hurricanes.

Kanra: Still, for that to make the headlines, it must have been quite the fight.

Saika: It must have taken an army for Shizuo to get that angry.

Kanra: How many guys did they have to scrape off the streets, Setton?

Setton: Actually he went against just one guy.

Taro Tanaka: Your kidding?

Saika: Woah?

Kanra: Who's stupid enough to go against Shizu-chan?

Kanra: That newbie probably got his ass kicked in the end.

Saika: Yeah

Saika: Probably

Setton: Not really.

Setton: This new guy was not that bad himself.

SettonL He was holding his own against Shizuo.

Setton: It looked like he was even giving Shizuo a hard time.

Taro Tanaka: Woah.

Saika: I never knew anyone who could be a match for Shizuo.

Kanra: You know who he is?

Setton: Not a clue.

Kanra: Makes me wonder just what kind of guy this one is.

* * *

1 day ago.

A certain man stepped out from the metro and watched as the train leaves off. He stood above the passing crowds and took a moment for a quick look around him. If one would look midst the faceless crowds, someone might end up pointing at a man who stood out among the rest. Their curiosity on the oddity was not prejudiced for the man in question was an oddity indeed.

He had a modest face with nothing significant, except for his short-spikey red hair, akin to a matchstick with a black bandana tied to his forehead. He wore a black coat that was folded by the wrists, jeans and a red sleeveless shirt underneath. A large backpack was strapped on his back and a guitar case was held on his right hand that was bandaged. Black fingerless gloves in turn covered his left hand and thick headphones hung around his neck.

Smiling to himself, he unzipped his guitar case and took out his instrument. He revealed to the crowds a heavy double-headed guitar. A musical axe with sharp edges and a wicked handmade metal work design. The man attached a plug to his bag, placed his headphones on his ears and began playing an upbeat tune as he slowly made his way out of the metro.

Like the Pied Piper himself, the man would have pedestrians turn their heads towards the sound. They would watch as they see a tall man walking passed their way and disappear amongst the crowds, leaving them to gaze and wonder.

Curious bystanders would stand and watch. Others who had nothing better to do would even follow him at every turn out of sheer curiosity. The man soon led a small procession that was eager to listen to the curious tune, wanting to hear more of the out it.

The man continued playing as he went along the busy streets. Not a beat was missed and did not bat a single eye at the steadily growing crowds. The song came to an abrupt halt when the mysterious redhead stopped his strumming at an empty corner of a busy square. The man turned and faced the growing crowds and gave them a genuine smile.

With an Ipod at hand, a steady drumbeat started resonating from his backpack. The rhythm of the beat started going louder, faster, stronger for the whole crowds to hear. The man tapped his feet with the beat. Listening patiently for his cue and with a strum from his guitar, he began the show.

His hands were like a blur as it strummed the strings through the song. The man moved from one guitar and the other, setting up the rhythm and the base sound fluidly and soundly. It was an impressive sight and an even better sound for the crowds. They cheered at the music and dropped money onto the open guitar case, eager to hear more.

The crowds began to expect that the song was coming to a close. They listened as the song began to slow down. To their surprise however, the man began strumming faster and faster before the last note. He did it to the point that the crowds believed that the strings would snap or that the stereos or the guitars would burst into flames due to the stress the man was giving it with the song.

To their astonishment, when the red haired man came for the finale, he raised his guitar into the air. Before ending the song, the man strummed faster than before while balls of fire erupted from the guitar. The skies were filled with fireworks and color that shined in the eyes of the wild crowds. The crackle of gunpowder was drowned out by the sounds of cheers and applause followed by the sound of paper bills and coins dropping into the guitar case.

 _My name is Kenta Koutaku. Ironically though, I am anything but modest, but I am a vagabond. A pioneer that goes wherever the wind goes. Finding peace and happiness in the world at large caring not where or why._

 _This time it brought me here. In Ikebukuro._

 _Ikebukuro. It's a funny little town. I heard a bit about this place. Usually coming from one urban legend to the next. That didn't interest me one bit however. In fact, I had no reason for coming here. I just came here at random. I am here because I am here._

 _I had no relatives to meet or visit. No associates or businesses for me to ascertain. The same as the other places I've gone. No reason whatsoever. That is, except for the music. Folks around just happened to like it, so I gave them a show._

 _I always liked making people smile. That's all that I've ever done and that was all that I've ever wanted to do for the world. Too bad most thought that I was too menacing and stayed clear of me. Clowning around sure wasn't my thing, too chill for that. Never good at making jokes either. I always seem to ruin it or end up stuttering half way._

 _Music seemed to be only way I could do it. And boy was I sure as hell am good at it. They like it and so I like it. I'm that simple and that was good enough for me._

 _The money that came with it acted as a bonus. But I'm not complaining. A man has to eat at the end of the day after all. And that's how my life goes._

"That was quite a show you put up there, pal." A man slowly clapped as he walked towards the musician. "Pretty good wasn't it boys?"

"Yeah. Sure is." The men behind him chuckled and nodded with their ugly mugs.

 _And then there were these days._

Kenta turned his head at came face to face with a small group of gangsters. There were five of them. They wore loose shirts that reached to their knees, caps that cover their brows and large chains and jewelry that dangled from their necks and fingers.

 _How people have the guts to get out of their homes looking like that is beyond me. Someone seriously needs to beat the 90's out of these bozos. Gotta say though, I was glad to get that chance._

"Glad you enjoyed yourselves." Kenta replied with a bright smile. His voice was low and choppy. His words were spoken in a paced and slow monotone. "But if you're looking for an Encore, best if you wait another time. I'm all done this afternoon."

"Awww. That's a real shame." The gangster said sarcastically. "You must be new here pal if you don't know about how things go here. How the rules work."

"Rules?" Kenta asked. "What rules?"

"Hahaha! You see here, this is Dollar's territory. Ever heard of them?"

"Don't need to." Kenta said coolly. "I know what you are here for. So. How much do you want?"

"Depends on what you have in that case of yours, bro. You gotta pay to play here." The gangster replied. One of the men behind him others tapped his bat on the pavement. "Don't worry though. We'll leave you a little something if you don't make it too hard for us."

"Hmmm." Kenta pondered out loud. His hands tapped on the guitar. "How would you folks like to hear a new song I had working on? I've been working on it for a while."

"Whu'?" The gangster said blankly. "We don't got time to hear your lame ass songs. Now pay up before we trash your junk all over the streets."

"Oh. That's a shame." Kenta said coolly. His finger's turned the switches of the stereo on and rolled the knobs up high.

"Cuz believe me." He said ominously. "It's a killer."

The musician strummed one note hard with the stereo in full blast. The sound was so loud that it broke every glass item meters away. Cars blared their alarms as their windows were shattered to pieces. The aftershock tune was so high that almost everyone in the square heard an ear-piercing scream and had them cover their ears.

The gangsters however were not so lucky. The blast launched them a foot away and to the ground. The aftershock sound tore through their ears even if they covered them. It left them disoriented, stunned, vomiting and was left groveling in the ground, moaning in pain.

Kenta did not bat them an eye until he fixed up all his things. The money was poured out and set in his wallet. His guitar was zipped back up in its case. The sound systems were all organized and packed in. When all that was said and done only did he turn his attention back at them.

He did not have the same bright smile like before. Instead there was the cold stare of indifference. There was not a smile etched in his face this time. He gave each man a boot in the face that left them lying still on the ground.

 _I always hated people who didn't appreciate music._

"Let me know if you or any of your friends want an encore." Kenta called at them without looking back as he walked away. "I'd be happy to play you guys something heavy next time."


End file.
